Dave Nordstrand: Night chills and high beams

It may be a stretch of beauty at its daytime best, but parts of Highway 68 at nightime can look suspiciously like a Vegas strip for cars and their drivers. All that's missing are the sequined showgirls and that pearly string of 24-hour casinos.

With all its recent safety add-ons, its yellow road tabs mirroring headlights. its red taillights blinking, its stoplights glowing, Highway 68 can feel like showtime, at least in terms of the candlepower.

I noticed that Tuesday just after sunset on the Salinas-to-Monterey commute run. When I saw all the lights, I was sorry I'd left my party shoes in the closet.

After a burger in Seaside, I opted to drive a different route home to Salinas. Really, my choice proved to be the flip side of the new-and-improved, if slightly gaudy, Highway 68.

My road home reminded me of those Hollywood fright movies where a serial killer is driving the 18-wheeler behind you. He's hitting the horn. He's hitting your bumper. He's trying to drive you off the road. He's trying to kill you!

The beginning, which is from Imjin to Reservation Road, is fine. The trouble starts when, instead of turning left onto Blanco, which takes you across the Salinas River, through the fields, and into the city, you go straight.

Soon, you're the only car out there. It's getting darker. Once you past the East Garrison gate, you enter a world of sharply winding turns and long-deceased shadows.

The night closes in like one seamless threat.

That road does have a center line to guide you. Mostly, though, it's about uncertainty. Mix in a graveyard-like mist and coils of icy fog, and you begin to feel that spinal chill.

So I guess I'd rather drive the Highway 68 Vegas strip. Even if traffic stops as it's known to do, you can turn up the radio and bop to the beat or even get out of the car and stretch.